The soldiers at the door instantly recognized him and saluted.
“Head Director, sir!” the lieutenant greeted. “We weren’t expecting you. Have you come to watch the show?”
“Actually,” Damien began, “I’m here for questioning.”
Speak of the devil, a terrible scream pierced the air. The soldiers could not contain themselves, either smiling or outright laughing. Damien kept a straight face, but his heart began to bounce uncontrollably. The screaming did not cease.
“Questioning? Sir, we were informed that his interrogations were all wrapped up. I told the boys they could do as they pleased until he’s good for the incinerator.”
“And I just got done looking over the reports from the very operation where his info came into play. Do you have more questions for me, Lieutenant Lyndon?”
Damien kept his voice rigid, but his hands were sweating within his gloves. The screaming continued undeterred.
“No, sir. Allow me. I apologize for my lack of decorum.”
Damien didn’t bother replying and waited for Lyndon to open the door for him. Inside was an observation room, as plain and cold as the hallway. What it did have was a see-through mirror that displayed the show that a dozen troops were cheering on.
Dylan had been tied to a steel chair in nothing but his briefs. The legs of said chair had been placed under his armpits and now one soldier, a man no older than Damien, was tipping it backward toward the ground. Dylan’s back was being bent along with it.
“How far can he go?!” exclaimed one troop.
“A hundred bucks on his back snapping in under a minute.”
“Jackass, he isn’t gonna last ten seconds.”
Lt. Lyndon ignored them all and pressed a button close to the mirror.
“Private, let him be for now. The Head Director is on deck and he needs to see the bastard.”
The soldier inside gave up the sadistic game without debate. McGinley, a few seconds away from a splintered vertebra, fell forward onto his face and lied flat on the wet floor. With the hollering now gone, the chamber was quiet as a tomb.
“Do you need accompaniment, sir?” Lyndon asked.
The head director tossed him a stare of indignation before answering. “What I need is for all of you to clear out. And cut the prisoner loose for now.”
The order was passed along and all the troops began to head for the hallway. The one who’d been in the midst of pushing Dylan’s spine to its limit severed the rope tying him to the chair and then dragged him over to the wall. He slammed McGinley into the solid surface to prop him up.
In light of all the activity, the air was warm, damp, and the hard-concrete floor was still wet from the last hosing. A murky puddle had pooled around the drain in the center of the room. Damien also picked up on the smell of feces. He figured no amount of water pressure could get rid of the stench.
When the door shut, leaving it the two of them, Dylan arched his neck upward. It took some effort and a lot of pain. Damien stood on the other side of the small space.
“You finally…c-came,” was Dylan’s first utterance. He had bags under his eyes like Damien, but his eyes appeared much more sunken in. His once well-kept hair wavy hair that he prided himself on had been reduced to a field of patches. His tanned skin was now a blend of bruises, all varying in sizes and color. “I figured you would sooner or later, Wes”
Wes, a fraud of a name in itself. About as real as your loyalty. Damien didn’t divulge how much his former friend’s betrayal disturbed him, but he couldn’t avoid asking it: “I came because I want to know why you turned your back on us. Everyone wrote it off as money or a thirst for power, but they don’t know you like I do. Tell me the real reason, Dylan.”
Dylan gazed at him with disdain. “To what end? They finally let me sleep yesterday after three days of agony. Those four hours were heaven. I dreamed of Carly. Our Academy days. Watching your ass take your first shot.” There was a short-lived twinge of a grin on his face. “They woke me up with a jolt of electricity to my nuts. Does me telling you give you some sort of peace of mind?”
“Even with the Intel of the impending Crimson Angel incursion, many of our soldiers died tonight. I’m beyond believing in peace of mind. Dylan, thanks to you, I’m damn near done believing in peace. What point is there in order when your own allies will try to undo it? I trusted—” Damien stopped himself. He was confident the underlings weren’t listening to the conversation of a Cabinet member. He stopped himself for pride’s sake.
“All I want at this point is to understand how one decides to take this course.”
“I’ll tell you, Wesley, and let me say that it is undebatable that I am a traitor. It is undeniable that I have caused many deaths. All I deserve at this rate is death.” Dylan’s eyes ogled the pistol Damien had on his side. “And who better to do it? Could you please? You have high enough of rank that no one would question it. The scourge that is me would be gone.”
There goes that name again. A blazing falsehood. Damien pondered the proposal. He has nothing left to offer this world. What benefit does keeping him alive bring? The head director unbuckled the holster and placed his hand on the gun.
“You have the floor,” Damien invited.
Dylan licked his swollen lips, knowing full well if he lied, ‘Wes’ would see right through it.
“I followed this path because Gabriella pointed out the cracks in this empire, and they can’t be unseen. I began to see all this as a house of cards. The bigger it gets, the more likely for it to fall. The Romans. The British. I’ll admit I don’t know when, but it’s inevitable.”
Damien had heard enough. He was just about to lift the pistol from the holster, but he suddenly stopped. In fact, he buckled it shut once more. Dylan did not have the strength to stand in protest. The best he could do was raise a hand like a beggar.
“We will meet again, Dylan. Then, and only then, will I allow you to expire. Until that time, I wish you the best.”
Dylan sat there on the floor speechless. With the head director now gone, the soldiers reentered the room. Their smiles were even bigger than before.
***
Groveport, Ohio
What a fucking gyp, thought Ewan as he walked through the parking structure. It was fifteen minutes from last call, but he’d decided to hell with four in the morning. He had expected single and gorgeous single women in droves at the city’s latest club downtown. After all, the reviews had been glowing and he’d gone all out with a silver Armani suit with a light purple shirt. Ewan had even gone with the casual no-tie look to no avail. Topped off by his expensive watch, he’d thought for sure he would get at least a phone number.
Instead, he’d been subjected to endless couples and groups of women with their friends. Every invitation to dance or even talk had ended with a solid, ‘Sorry, I’m with my friends tonight’ or one of its variants. Liquid courage had not been of any realm aid either. Twenty dollar shots, for fuck’s sake! He kept thinking of the bill as he walked on. The receipt was in his pocket, right next to the lint and gum wrappers. Ewan was thinking ahead, though. Get some sleep, and in the morning, we’ll find way to make this tax deductible for next year.
At last he saw his car, a Lambo-XL7. It was more compact than its predecessors and the fastest model by far. He’d went into the club rehashing the day he drove it off the lot, thinking it would melt many heart. All it had led to were critiques of how much he was contributing to climate change. Fresh out of college and idealistic, the worst.
Ewan unlocked the car and hopped inside. He shut the door but didn’t start the car immediately. Admittedly, he’d been a little buzzed on the walk back to the car, so he sat there using his tried-and-true technique of blasting the air conditioning while trying to find the right radio station. Normally some heavy metal ringing in his ears would pump him up, but tonight he felt something different was in order. Ah, here we are. EDM it is.
Just as he began to relax, the passenger door opened and
a woman sat in the luxurious leather seat.
“Hey, what the fuck are you doing in my car you crazy bi—” Ewan began before a blade was at his throat. It wasn’t a simple dagger, though that would already be terrifying enough. No, this was a lot bigger. He froze and his first instinct was to get a look at his attacker, but he felt the blade move just a little closer.
“Keep your eyes forward and shut that shit off!” she commanded.
Ewan obeyed and turned the radio off. Sweat began to pour out of his body, staining his shirt all over. His hands trembled, but he felt the blade lower slightly.
“I can go to an ATM and take out everything I got. I have thousands I can give you!” he said in rapid breaths.
“No shit? And here I was thinking the car was a dead giveaway, silly me. Now, this is a situation I highly doubt you’ve ever been in before. You’re thinking ‘how can I get out of this?’ Understandable, and, honestly, I don’t know much about this car. Maybe it has a panic button like the Tesla Model X that you’re just dying too push first chance you get. Let me fill you in on something: that is an 1840 Calvary Saber at your neck. Do you know that means?”
Ewan thought to himself and his assailant waited patiently. After almost two minutes, it hit him. The intruder could hear the gasp he tried to keep quiet.
“You’re…you’re a cyborg, but why are you here? You don’t look like that one they were looking for.”
“True, very true, and I won’t bore you with the details of my circumstances. Just know this, no matter how clever you think you are I will notice if you try to flag someone and if you do I will go out of my way to maim or kill you before they come remotely close to rescuing you. I don’t even need this sword, really. I could crush your face with one hand.”
“You want the car? I’ll hand it over and say I just found it gone.”
“Nope. As it stands, I need you for a few favors. Believe me when I say this, killing you and taking this car would be another thing for me to worry about. I don’t want your car or your money. All I want are these favors and after I will let you go. No bullshit. I gain nothing from offing you, so I’d prefer not to. I will only hurt you if you make this difficult. Simple enough, right?”
Ewan was holding in his piss with all his might. “Y-yeah, yeah, simple. I won’t try a thing.”
He was ready to empty his bladder when he felt the blade lower entirely. Ewan knew if she was indeed a cyborg as she said, then the woman could kill him any second. Still, not having the sword to his throat made a stark difference in terms of comfort.
Well, if my life is on the line, I at least want to see the face of the person who offs me. He went for it.
Ewan looked to his right and saw the face of a beautiful woman with jet black hair and moderately tanned skin. Over her right eye, however, was a red bandanna. The garment did not hide the blood seeping down her cheek like a tear. The coat and armor were unmistakable. She really is a cyborg.
“If you keep staring at me, I’m going to make it even and rip out one of yours. Which eyeball do you prefer, left or right?”
Ewan turned away, all at once embarrassed and terrified. He searched for the right words.
“Sorry. So…do you want to know my name?” he pondered. He got a sardonic reply.
“What the hell for? Save it for the next lucky girl, my friend.”
“Oh,” he said, resting his hands on the steering wheel, “straight to business then. What are these favors of yours?”
“Like I said, I don’t want any of your money and that’s true, but I need you to drive me somewhere. Sadly, I hear the gas mileage on this thing is terrible.”
Ewan offered up a phony laugh, something he knew wasn’t required but that he felt inclined to give anyway. “What’s the destination?”
“New York City, and I need to get there by tomorrow night. Think you can handle that?”
Ewan thought about those five hundred or so miles he had to travel. Drive for a bit and I get to live. Sounds easy peasy.
“That I can. Let’s get started,” he said cheerfully.
His newfound ‘friend’ stared at him, and Ewan was ready for a verbal lashing or a broken finger. What did I do?
“Great to hear. First thing in the morning, we will buy me some new clothes and afterward you can get some sleep. Second thing, we both know this going to be a long trip. Do not do that fucking laugh or fake-ass smile ever again in my presence, got it? It makes me uncomfortable.”
Ewan didn’t know how to reply and decided to go with a simple nod.
Chapter 3 – Dead Set on a Requiem
October 23, 2065 – Carrolton, New York
Gael chugged his coffee, not giving a damn if its heat was almost too much. Being up all night was nothing new to him, but this feeling of despair was killing him. To keep up their ruse of normality, he was on top of Vivi’s shop and the AC unit was mostly dissembled. In his coveralls, it would seem he was fixated on repairs but in fact he was keeping an eye out for UNR activity.
Covering the entire truck yard, including the Peregrine, was an enormous white tarp. Displayed on the areas visible from the road was a simple message: COME ON DOWN TO RUSSEL’S YARD & MORE!!! WE DO IT ALL AND FOR CHEAPER THAN THE OTHER GUYS!
934-657-8872
RUSSELYARD.COM
It was almost noon by now. The traffic passing by was steady. A big rig honked at him, and he waved back. One of Vivi’s customers, no doubt, he thought, or maybe a suit for the UNR. Gael got hold of himself. After all, it wasn’t all gloom just yet. The invasion force had made it back, which was somewhat of a relief. Then he remembered how few of them remained and lost focus again.
Gael stood by the edge of the roof now, finishing his coffee. The only remedy he could think of was to give himself a moment. Maybe we’re through for good.
Across the road, he saw a few bushes rustle. He assumed it was a deer getting ready to attempt a trek across the road. Being a late-night mechanic for the place, Gael had seen plenty of wildlife in his time do this. A pickup flew by at eighty, followed by a minivan heading away from Carrollton. It’s your lucky day.
For a moment, he saw no cars approaching from either direction. He knew it wouldn’t last long. Now’s your chance, buddy, take it. The bushes rustled again and Gael got himself settled to watch. Stepping from behind the fall foliage was no animal.
“Holy shit!” Gael yelled.
***
Gabriella was in the loading dock of the remaining Peregrine, slumped against the wall. The phone Declan had issued to her was next to her on the floor as Alex sat on the other side. He was by no means okay, but Gabriella looked even worse. Her face was full of derision, her eyes only half open.
They were the only two out there, everyone else being inside. Today there were no helmet cams on Alex’s telescreens. Today they were all blank. He could have had the news going, but why bother? he reasoned.
They heard footsteps approaching. No, running. Alex turned to see Vivi. The woman appeared frantic.
“They made it! Come inside, they made it!” she announced with joy.
Before Alex could even absorb the moment, Gabby was already headed down the ramp.
***
When Gabby and the others got to the pseudo-hospital, all they heard was clapping and cheering. Vivi’s lounge room, normally used as a suped-up waiting area for truck drivers, had been converted into the treatment center for all the wounded. Couches now had beaten soldiers on them. The pool tables had been pushed aside for cots.
“Make way, make way, goddammit!” Gael shouted. The men and women did so, allowing Gabby and Alex to see Will walking toward an empty cot. In his arms was none other than Joseph Halsey. The super soldier set him down lightly and, as soon as he did, Bri and a few others began to check on him.
“Give us room!” the Tremblay sister ordered. People were reluctant to move, but Gael made sure everyone stayed their distance. Gabriella was among those dying to get closer, but Alex walked away from it all. Gab
by’s first reaction was shock, coupled with ire. How can he just—
Then she saw who he was heading toward and realized she needed to pay her respect. Off in the corner of the room, away from everyone else, Alex spoke to the cyborg.
“It is good to see you,” Alex said. “Goddamn good. Late as always, but you never let us down.”
“Wasn’t exactly around the corner, but I work my magic,” the super soldier replied. As Sgt. Neeson joined them, he straightened his posture.
“He’ll be okay, Gabby. I stopped the bleeding, but he’ll probably need a blood transfusion.”
Gabriella teared up but could only nod in thanks.
“Seems like I taught you something after all,” Alex said proudly.
“I had to read up on something while you had me stuck in bed,” Will answered.
“Thank you, Will.”
The tired soldier and Alex alike were stunned to hear those words. Even more surprising was Gabby full-on embracing Will.
“Thank you so much!”
Will was thrown off for a moment, but he hugged her back. Alex realized he’d never seen the cyborg embrace another human being. The most he could usually get out of him were sarcastic remarks and maybe a handshake. This image lifted him up, giving his heart a jump. He remembered Robert Neeson: a man of mistakes and also of vision. Jacob, you must treat him as our equal, as you would treat a fellow soldier and friend. As much as you think of him as different, he's still no less human.
This is what Robert wanted.
***
The Ritz- Carlton, Toronto
Declan and Ominic had their eyes glued to the telescreen. None of the wonders in the suite got their attention. Vanzetti sat in his armchair, taking a sip of his favorite cabernet. He got back to his book.
Not even the mention of his friend Daniel Charles on the news stirred him. Ominic glared at Declan with anger, but the politician said nothing. He only looked at the news, waiting for the inevitable report. It was when they both heard a snicker that Ominic could no longer stand it.
“What the hell are you doing?!” the general yelled.
End of Knighthood Part III: Ballad of Demise (Reverence Book 4) Page 2
